Recent bookmarks
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Summary
Oscar Piastri has always hoped his soulmate would understand his job, the traveling and all the energy it takes.
Thank god Max Verstappen understands.
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I can't trust my friends ('cause he's what everybody chases) by Liraelearil
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
16 Feb 2026
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Summary
The 2025 rookies take it upon themselves to find Max a mate. After watching their failed matchmaking attempts from a distance, Oscar takes matters into his own hands.
Series
- Part 1 of everybody wants you
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you know that had it once (you know that you want it back) by Parallel_Mirrors
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
08 Jul 2025
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Summary
“Max offered me a seat on his plane,” Oscar shrugs, tone level, almost casual. “Said we might as well fly out together.”
Lando stiffens. Something catches in his throat.
“Max?” The name shoots out of him too sharply, too quickly—like it cuts on the way out, jagged and instinctive. His lips curl slightly before he can stop them, the disbelief flashing across his face unfiltered, “You’re leaving with Max?”
Bookmarked by Insyndiar
14 Jan 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
damn girl we messy 😮💨 loooooove the way you characterized them ... the relationships and interactions are all so compelling and work together so well
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Summary
Max notices it first on a Thursday.
Not because anything about Oscar usually draws attention — he’s quiet, reliable, neat, the sort of person who folds his race suit properly after every session — but because lately, he’s been hovering. Not in an annoying way, just… there. Always within a few feet. Always pretending to be busy with something that doesn’t need doing.
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breaker-breaker, break hearts by dizzyizzyhands for fiftyfivechillis (eeryels)
Fandoms: Formula 1 RPF
19 Dec 2025
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Summary
It’s not that Oscar minds not talking (in fact he prefers it) but Max has always unsettled him slightly. It’s not Max’s intensity that bothers Oscar, because he’s similarly intense, but just the legend of him; he’s got a lion on his helmet and five championships under his belt, and he can drive from the pit lane to the podium in under sixty laps.
So they just sit there in the quiet for a while.
Something prods at Oscar’s brain about ten minutes in. Poking curiosity. Like someone’s asking him how he feels, genuinely, not the press-ready answer, thanks. He looks at Max, who raises an eyebrow.

